Decisions and Donuts
by texas2step
Summary: Steve can't seem to stay out of trouble as he recovers from another injury. This story is finished. Thanks to everyone who reviewed. Your kind words are most encouraging.
1. Default Chapter

Decisions and Donuts  
  
Disclaimer: The characters of Diagnosis Murder do not belong to me. They are only borrowed for the purpose of this fiction. No profit is made from this story.  
  
A/N: I found a special treasure in my beta reader. I truly appreciate her and the infamous red pen. Thanks so much for your help.

Chapter 1

Jesse made his way to the ER knowing full well he wasn't going to like what he would find down there. It had been all of two days since he had let this guy go home with strict orders to take it easy and get lots of rest. He was pretty sure that he had also mentioned that going back to work at this time was totally out of the question. He was also sure he had mentioned to this particular patient that if he wound up back in the hospital before he had completely healed from his current injuries, his chances of being placed into restraints were probably more than just good. Jesse felt equally sure the patient's father would back him up and agree with anything he felt was necessary to keep him from becoming a menace to himself.  
  
Jesse charged through the doors of the exam room and, sure enough, there on the gurney looking rather sheepish at his predicament lay Lieutenant Steve Sloan. He opened his mouth to try and explain what had happened when Jesse looked at him with total exasperation and said, "Save it. I've heard them all by now. Just lay still and be quiet. Oh, and before you ask, I have told your dad and he is on his way down here right now. You, my friend, are in big trouble."  
  
The three nurses and the EMT's, who were still hovering, exchanged knowing glances among themselves. This seemed to becoming a frequent habit of the unfortunate police detective.  
  
Jesse ordered several tests as he made an inventory of the damage Steve had done to himself. Jesse noticed that the sutures he had so carefully placed on Steve's right side were all but mangled. Dirt covered the entire site. In fact Steve seemed to be covered from head to toe in similar dirt and some other foreign substance that he was certain he would rather remain a mystery. Jesse noticed the Lieutenant was having difficulty breathing giving him cause to believe that Steve had cracked one of his very bruised ribs. He also noticed that his friend seemed to be holding his arm across his mid section and after removing the remainder of his shirt he realized that Steve had received a severe beating to his stomach and back. This just added to the tests that he had already planned for the unfortunate Lieutenant.  
  
"Jesse, this isn't what it looks like." Steve tried a feeble attempt at making some excuse for being here.  
  
"I see. You are wearing a jacket with a pair of jeans. Your badge is clipped to your belt as is your gun. I believe the report said that you were found in an alley wallowing around on the ground. On second thought I think I would like to hear what you have to say because this should be pretty good." Jesse smiled down at his friend waiting for what should be quite an entertaining tale.  
  
Just then Mark Sloan came rushing into the room. After a quick examination of his son, he finally let out the breath he had been holding. Relief soon turned to anger as Mark realized that Steve had definitely not been at home recuperating, as per doctor's orders. Keeping his voice even and steady he pinned Steve with a glare and began interrogating his son.  
  
"Steven Michael Sloan, what on earth were you doing?" Before Steve could open his mouth to explain Mark once again pounced on his infuriating son.  
  
"Hush. I am not in the mood to hear any of your excuses. Can't you, just for once, try to do as you are told?" Once again Mark cut off his son when he looked like he might try to answer his father.  
  
"I told you to be quiet. Two-year-olds mind better than you do. What excuse do you have for not being at home resting?" Once again Steve tried to explain when his father launched into him again.  
  
"Don't interrupt me when I'm talking to you. There is no excuse for this young man. Jesse is your doctor and he decides when you can go back to work. Not you. I know you heard him when he said at least until the stitches come out. Well let me tell you, my friend, as your father I plan to see to it that you do exactly as you are told. I had better not hear one word come out of your mouth about when you can go home. Your doctor and I will decide that and I promise that all the whining and fussing will do you no good. Do you understand me?" Steve, not sure what to do, just lay there afraid to speak.  
  
"Answer me, young man. I asked you a question and I expect a response." Bellowed Mark.  
  
"I understand." Steve said, flustered by his father's obvious frustration with him.  
  
Steve felt a little guilty about the whole thing but there wasn't anything he could do about it now. He let his breath out sighing, causing pain to radiate through his entire mid section. This caught the attention of his father.  
  
"What?" Marked pinned Steve with a glare.  
  
"Nothing. I'm just glad you didn't threaten to restrain me that's all." Steve looked relieved for a short moment.  
  
"That is still a possibility. It will depend on how well you conduct yourself while you are here. You give anyone so much as a cross word and I'll have you trussed up so tight you won't be able to move an inch."  
  
The orderlies came before Steve could reply to take him to x-ray. While he was gone, Jesse and Mark put their heads together and decided that for the sake of the staff and for his own good they would need to come up with a way to keep Steve in line.  
  
"He's going to needed full time watching. He seems to forget he's recovering the minute he starts to feel a little better." Mark sighed with a frustrated look all over his face.  
  
"You know there is only one person who can handle the job. He's not going to like it though." Jesse looked at Mark with the same frustration on his own face.  
  
"I know but I don't see how we can get around it. You know it's the best thing for him. He has really given us no choice." Mark couldn't help the grin that was beginning to spread across his face.  
  
"You want to make the call or should I?" Jesse couldn't help but smile as he joined in the fun.  
  
"Oh let me do it. I think I need to have a little talk with her and fill her in on everything so that she will be ready for him when she gets here." Mark smiled at the thought of his son's reaction when he saw his nurse.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
  
Steve lay quietly as nurses worked to hook him up to an IV and gently settled him into the bed. He was freshly bathed and sporting a nice clean hospital gown. One of the nurses looked at him rather sadly as she remembered the chewing out he got down in the ER.  
  
"It's ok, don't worry about it. I've been chewed out before. It's a safe bet it won't be the last time either." Steve smiled at her so that she wouldn't feel so bad about the lecture he had gotten.  
  
Steve knew that he probably deserved the dressing down that his dad and Jesse had given him but he felt they had been a little harsh. If they had just listened to him he could have explained everything and they would have seen that he was well in control of the whole situation. Well, mostly in control.  
  
He hadn't meant to get into all this trouble. When he got up this morning he had felt fine. Maybe a little stiff but other than that he was sure he could handle going into the precinct for just a short while. All he had planed to do was work on his files until lunch. Then he was going straight back to Malibu and rest until his dad and Jesse got home. This whole thing really wasn't his fault.  
  
On his way into the precinct he decided to stop off at the little place across the street from the beach house and pick up a few donuts and a cup of coffee to take with him. While he was getting his drink he noticed two boys gradually making their way up to the counter. He sighed as he watched them approaching the clerk. He could feel the hair on the back of his neck starting to stand on end. He had seen that look so many times before. They were going to try and hold up the store for whatever cash might be in the register. Knowing that he probably wouldn't be up to chasing down the kids if he called them on it, he tried to come up with a plan to diffuse the whole sordid mess before it even got started.  
  
All of a sudden one of the boys pulled out a gun and started waving it in the air trying to frighten the store clerk and the other customers into cooperating with his demands. So much for coming up with a plan. Steve pulled his own gun and aimed it at the youth and ordered him to drop his weapon. Just then the kid swung the gun in Steve's direction and fired off a shot just barely missing his head. The kid then bolted to the door dragging his partner, who seemed to have become frozen to the spot he was standing on as soon as the fracas began, with him. Steve felt that he had no choice but to give chase and, as he ran after the two, he yelled at the clerk to call 911 and tell them that an officer needs back up.

Steve ran as best he could with two bruised ribs and about 20 stitches in his side. He followed his prey into a deserted side street slowing down trying to catch his breath and a glimpse of the youths. As he cautiously made his way down one side of the street he listened for any sound that would give him a clue where the two were hiding. He came near a large puddle that seemed to be more than stagnant water. Just as he was about to step over it he was hit from behind and knocked to the ground. Unable to stop his decent he found himself wallowing in the foul pool as one of the boys jumped on him trying to hit him.  
  
Steve had managed to avoid any blows to the head when suddenly his entire world exploded into a searing white pain that seemed to envelop his whole body. It seemed that an army of legs were kicking him over and over. He tried to curl up into a ball in order to protect his mid section but every time he did he would be kicked in the back. Unable to catch his breath he was unable to fend off the assault that reigned down on his right side.  
  
Just as fast as the attack began it ended and suddenly Steve found himself alone lying in the mess unable to move to a more desirable part of the pavement. In the distance he could hear the distinct wail of sirens as they approached the side street in which he lay. He did his best to hang on to consciousness even though the effort was almost more than he could handle.  
  
Soon he saw the faces of some uniformed officer's looming over him. He tried to report about the two boys that he had chased but was unable to communicate through the pain that seemed to be increasing with each breath. He heard one of the officers' call for an ambulance and then he couldn't be sure but he thought one of them said something about how his dad was going to kill him before he lost his battle to remain awake. When he next opened his eyes it was inside the ambulance and they had just pulled into the ER bay at Community General.  
  
Now as he lay in his hospital bed, Steve had time to think about the choices he had made and wished that he had waited at least one more day before venturing out to the station. Maybe he should just give up donuts. After all that's why he stopped into the store to begin with.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
  
Steve had been on the receiving end of his dad's fury many times so it wasn't new to him. With promises to do better and to listen to his doctor's orders they always got past it. It appeared to him though that Jesse and his dad seemed more upset this time. Some of his dad's threats had him a little worried but he decided to just do as he was told and in few days it would all blow over and he could talk them into letting him go home again.  
  
As Steve lay quietly waiting for the nurses to finish with getting him settled the door suddenly opened and his father and Jesse came into the room. Steve noticed that both of them seemed to have calmed down a bit. Maybe they would rethink the need for him to stay in the hospital and give him a second chance at home. This however, was soon dashed as right behind the two doctors Steve recognized the all too familiar face of the one person who could make his blood run cold faster than anything on earth. The one person he had hoped to never see again unless it was while someone else was being tortured by her constant administrations.  
  
This was too much. Suddenly the quiet passive patient turned into an explosive, frantic prisoner as he tried in vain to get out of bed. He might have succeeded if the pain that enveloped him hadn't suddenly stopped him in mid flight.  
  
"No, Dad. No damn way am I going to stay in here with her taking care of me." Steve gasped in pain as Mark and Jesse were soon at his side pulling him back up into the bed and securing the bed rails in the up position to make any further escapes more difficult.  
  
"Watch your mouth young man before I wash it out with soap." Came the reply from the hard looking nurse as she walked up to Steve's side.  
  
"It's nice to see you again too, Steven. I believe you are familiar with the rules, now settle down and relax. I plan to see to it that you behave and do everything that your father and Dr. Travis tell you." Turning to the two doctors she added with a smile, "I think I have everything under control here, doctors. Don't worry I promise he will be a model patient. He's going to stay right here and behave because if I have any trouble I WILL restrain him."  
  
Turning back to Steve she reached for the bed covers which sent him into a panic. "I have already had a bath thank you very much, so don't start on me with that!" he quickly informed her the whole time clutching the sheet with all of his might.  
  
"I know, I was just straightening up your blanket and trying to make you more comfortable. Now will you please relax and get some rest. I'm not planning on stripping you naked. Not yet anyway." She added with a smile as she turned to Mark and Jesse and gave them a wink.  
  
Seeing that Mrs. Grant had Steve well in hand, he turned to his son and with his best smile said, "I have rounds, Jesse is going off duty and you, my friend, are in good hands. I will come by later and check on you so try and get some rest and please be nice." The last part was said in a warning tone that Steve recognized as 'or else'.  
  
Steve knew for sure that he had messed up this time. The thought of spending the next few days with Mrs. Grant sent him into a depression. He couldn't help but think about the last time she had taken care of him and the bossy way in which she had insured his full cooperation.  
  
Maybe if he was really good and did everything his dad and Jesse wanted he could prove to them that he was able to take care of himself and follow directions. After all how hard could this be? All he had to do was bite his tongue for a few days and be as cooperative as possible, but even Steve doubted his ability to pull that off. Mrs. Grant approached him and started lowering the head of his bed tucking him in tight.  
  
"What are you doing?" Steve asked as she continued to hover over him.  
  
"It's time for you to take a nap and I am tucking you in so that you will feel snug and comfortable." She answered him never pausing as she spoke.  
  
"But I thought maybe I would just watch a little TV for now. I'm not even sleepy. Look it's not like I would be up moving around or anything." Steve was anxious to cooperate but not anxious to take a nap. He had been napping for days and now he was wide awake.  
  
Pulling at the blanket she was still tucking around his shoulders he forgot he was supposed to be cooperating and snapped. "Will you stop that? I don't want to take a nap."  
  
"Nonsense. You need to rest so that your body can heal properly and that means plenty of naps. Now there will be no more discussion. Close your eyes and go to sleep." She slapped his hand as he tried to reach for the bed controls.  
  
Steve sighed to himself as he turned his head away from his nurse and towards the wall. This wasn't going to be easy and he knew it. He was pretty sure he wasn't going to be able to hold it together much longer. 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4  
  
To Steve's surprise the next two days went pretty well. Much to his relief he was spared having to depend on urinals and bedpans. He was allowed trips to the bathroom under heavy guard from his father or Jesse. When it was time for baths Mrs. Grant helped him with the areas where his ribs had been bound and also the site where the stitches were. She left him alone to administer to his more private areas.  
  
For the most part Steve was finding it tolerable at best to control his temper at the constant attention Nurse Grant seemed determined to lavish on him. A couple of times he found himself counting to 100 and biting his tongue while it seemed Mrs. Grant was doing everything she could think of to bring him to a raging, roiling boil. It seemed there was no limit to the ways she could inflict misery on him. The worst was the way after every time he ate a meal she attacked his face and hands with a wet wash cloth. He was pretty sure that his own mother had never scrubbed him quite as much as this 'obsessed with cleanliness' woman did.  
  
Second only to the washing were the forced naps. Exactly thirty minutes after his morning bath he was forced to lay down and rest for an hour. Then exactly thirty minutes after being washed up after lunch he was forced to lay down and take at least an hour and a half nap. Each one of these delightful events was always accompanied with the ceremonial tucking in. By the time she was finished settling him down for the "nap", Steve felt like a caterpillar in a cocoon. He doubted restraints could have restricted his movements so well.  
  
In spite of her constant hovering over him during his every waking hour, Steve had managed to keep his anger in check and his biting comments to himself.  
  
At first this didn't seem to bother Mark. In fact he found his son's uncharacteristic cooperation and polite behavior rather pleasant. That is until others began to ask him if there was something wrong with Steve. It began with Jesse.  
  
Mark had just sat down at the table in the doctor's lounge with a fresh cup of coffee when Jesse breezed in heading for the pot himself. After pouring a cup and sitting next to the older doctor the two engaged in simple small talk for about five minutes. Mark watched Jesse closely and soon realized that his friend seemed to have something on his mind. Over the last three years Mark had learned to read this young man as well as he did his own son. He had also developed a fatherly attitude towards the boy as well.  
  
"So you want to just tell me what's on your mind or would you like to play the usual game of twenty questions and make me figure it out on my own?" Mark smiled at the puzzled look that Jesse had returned to him at his comment.  
  
"I have to agree with Steve. The way you do that is down right scary." Jesse commented.  
  
Looking a bit confused himself Mark asked. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"The way you always know when we have something on our minds. He told me once that no matter how hard he tried you always caught him when he tried to hide something from you. Now you're doing it to me." Jesse shivered at the eeriness of it.  
  
Mark smiled at his friend and just said. "It's a secret that we father's never share with our kids. Someday, after you boys get married and have kids of your own, you'll develop it too. Now, what's on your mind, young man?"  
  
"Well it's about Steve." Jesse seemed a little hesitant but felt that since Mark was his friend's dad, he was the best person to discuss any concerns he might have over Steve's attitude.  
  
"What about Steve? He seems to be doing fine. Or so I thought. What's wrong?" Mark was just a little more than concerned that Jesse was apparently worried about his son.  
  
"Nothing physical." Jesse was anxious to quell any worries that Mark might be having over his son's health.  
  
"It's just that." Once again Jesse seemed to be at a loss on how to describe his concerns over Steve's attitude.  
  
"It's just what, Jesse?" Mark encouraged him; worried that maybe he had missed something.  
  
"Haven't you noticed how cooperative and quiet he's being this time. I mean even on his best day he can still find something to throw a hissy fit about. He hasn't complained or even once asked when he could go home."  
  
"Well, now that you have mentioned it, he has been rather subdued since that little outburst when Mrs. Grant showed up. Do you think that maybe something is wrong with him?" Mark was beginning to get worried now.  
  
It wasn't like Steve wanted to see how far he could push the patience of the hospital staff. He really did appreciate the kindness and the care that he always got with his all too frequent visits. He just hated being pushed into forced convalescence.  
  
The staff who had been around for some time were quite used to his surly attitude and learned how to handle him with out letting him get the best of them. Unfortunately the turn over in staff sometimes meant that he would get a nurse who had never had him as a patient before. More often than not they went away sputtering and making mental plans on how they could inflict medical tortures to get back at him for the childish behavior he often exhibited when things didn't go his way.  
  
"I think I'll just go and check on him since I've got a few minutes before my meeting with the finance committee. I really haven't spent that much time with him in the last couple of days. I've been so busy trying to get this budget thing settled that I've pretty much left him in the hands of Mrs. Grant. I'll see you later." Mark rose quickly and made his way to his son's room.  
  
"Steven, I'm not going to tell you again to eat your lunch. I'm just going to feed it to you myself. Now sit up and eat your vegetables. You need the vitamins to get better." Mrs. Grant stood firm, with hands on hips, as she gave Steve one of her most fierce glares.  
  
Steve had just about reached his level of tolerance. When his dad poked his head in the room Steve was about to toss the congealed cold vegetables across the room.  
  
"How's everything going in here?" Mark forced a smile to his lips sensing that things were about to explode any minute.  
  
Unable to stop himself Steve launched into an incoherent tirade of babble that had been welling up inside of him for the last two days. "Dad, I can't take this any more! I've been trying and I've even bit my tongue until it's raw but this is it. I need food. I mean real food. I need to get out of this bed. I need to be able to decide when I need to rest. I need to go home. I need to get away from her! I need to be able to go to the bathroom without being escorted by the potty patrol! I just need to be left alone. I promise, Dad, I won't break the rules. Please. Let me go home alone."  
  
All of a sudden Steve was once again gasping for breath. This little tirade of his had brutally reminded him just why he was still in the hospital to begin with. For the next few seconds he tried to gain control of his breathing as the pain began to subside.  
  
Mark couldn't help but feel for his son, seeing the pain that came across his face after the sudden outburst. The last few days must have been all but torture for him.  
  
"I'm sorry Steve but I can't let you do that. You need assistance for a few more days. This little tantrum alone has you gasping in pain right now. I just can't trust you to take it easy on your own. Maybe next time you decide to venture out against your doctors orders you will think about all of this. Try to finish your lunch and get some rest. As far as the food goes, you took quite a beating to your mid section and your stomach is irritated from the blows. We've put you on a bland diet and that's the best I can promise for the next several days. Oh, by the way, it's nice to see you back to your old self. Jesse was afraid something was wrong with you." Mark smiled at his frustrated son.  
  
"What's that suppose to mean." Steve asked sarcastically.  
  
"Well, he was afraid there was something wrong with you since you hadn't turned the staff into a lynching party." Mark raised his eyebrows and watched his son take in his last comments.  
  
"I can't believe it. First you threaten me with restraints and my life if I don't cooperate and when I do you think something is wrong with me. Besides the staff can't even get close to me. In case you haven't noticed I've been heavily guarded by Nurse Ratchet here." Even though he was sweating by this point from his continued outbursts, Steve threw a glare towards Mrs. Grant who was still hovering over her patient.  
  
"That's quite enough Steve. You will show her the respect she deserves. You aren't that easy to deal with. Now, do as you're told or the restraints will be enforced. I'll be back later to check on you." As Mark turned to go out the door he heard a yelp come from his son.  
  
When he turned to look at what had caused his son to cry out it was all he could do to keep from laughing. Apparently Mrs. Grant had pinched Steve on his leg and while he yelled out in pain she shoved a spoon of vegetables in his mouth nearly gagging him on the now disgustingly cold fare. Rubbing his leg he tried to swallow the mouthful of mushy vegetables. Mark chuckled to himself as he went to find Jesse and let him know that Steve was back to normal and to warn the young doctor that the bear was out for blood. 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5  
  
Annie, one of the duty nurses, frowned at the report in her hand. It appeared to have been filled out incorrectly. As she looked up she saw Nancy Rush, the head floor nurse, coming towards her. Holding out the chart Annie said.  
  
"Nancy, something doesn't seem right about this chart. I thought Steve was allergic to Penicillin.  
  
"He is allergic to Penicillin. It should be flagged on his file. I can't believe it isn't." Nancy looked concerned as she reached for the chart that Annie was handing her way when suddenly an alarm sounded in one of the rooms so she called out a verbal instruction while rushing down the hall.  
  
"Put a note on the outside just in case the next shift gets here before we get back to the desk." Nancy said to her colleague.  
  
The nurse hastily put a post it note on top of Steve's chart stating that he was allergic to the antibiotic warning not to give it. The chart was laid aside and forgotten as Annie rushed to the room where the crisis was occurring.  
  
For over an hour doctors and nurses worked to stabilize her but in spite of all their efforts nothing could be done to save the favorite patient. It was time for shift changes before any one was ready to give up on the sweet old lady so the next shift started on the floor where the previous shift left off.  
  
Nancy and the team of nurses and doctors walked out into the hall with very heavy hearts. The crash cart and other equipment were pushed out of the room and the occupant was prepared to be moved to the morgue. It was hard for all of them to finally acknowledge the fact that there was nothing left they could do. The spirited woman had been a little ball of sunshine the whole time she had been with them. Never acknowledged the fact that she might not live from one day to the next, she only enjoyed each one to the fullest with smiles and enjoyment.  
  
By the time Nancy got to the desk the other shift had already started performing the necessary treatments and other patient care their job entailed. Something was picking at the back of the nurse's mind and she couldn't quite put her finger on it.  
  
Nancy finished writing her notes on the charts that she had started before the code. All of a sudden it dawned on her what it was that she had been trying to remember.  
  
With her heart beating rapidly in her chest she sought out the medication nurse who was giving out the meds on the hall where Steve was. She ran as quickly as she could to enquire of the nurse if she had given out Mr. Sloan's medication yet. Just as she was about to ask if the antibiotic had been penicillin, there was another code called. This time in the room she knew was Steve's. Nancy ran as fast as she could, yelling over her shoulder that Dr. Travis and Dr. Sloan were to be called immediately.  
  
What she saw as she entered the room almost made her heart stop. Steve lay on the bed motionless as Mrs. Grant used an ambu bag to breathe for him. Just then Jesse and Mark burst through the door and Nancy relayed her suspicions about the penicillin.  
  
"Get me an intubation tray. I want one amp of epinephrine STAT. Nancy lower the top of his bed, we need to get his head down. How long has he been like this?" Jesse took over forcing to the back of his mind that it was his best friend who now needed his help.  
  
"He started to have difficulty breathing about two minutes ago. I bagged him until just now when you came in." Mrs. Grant was relaying her information while she continued to force air into her patient's lungs with the ambu bag.  
  
"Help me move his bed out from the wall so I can get into position. I need to clear his airway in order to insert the tube." Jesse started to push the bed himself so that he could stand behind Steve. A nurse ran in with the crash cart and Mrs. Grant removed the bag from his mouth. Jesse positioned Steve's head in order to get a clear airway so that he could insert the tube and have Steve hooked up to the ventilator as soon as possible. The Epinephrine was injected into his IV and he was moved to the ICU for close monitoring.  
  
Steve's vital signs began to stabilize within the hour. Jesse and Mark discussed the ventilator and chose to leave him hooked up for the next several hours monitoring his progress very closely. Once they knew he was stable and out of immediate danger, the two walked out into the hallway to discuss how this could have happened. Mark heard what sounded like crying, and when he looked up he saw Nancy huddled in a corner crying softly to herself. He and Jesse quickly made their way over to her.  
  
Mark reached out and laid his hand on her shoulder and asked her what was wrong.  
  
"Oh Mark. All of this is my fault. I caught the mistake on his records and left a note because of the code with Mrs. Crouch. When I got back I looked and the note was on the desk but Steve's chart was gone. I went to the Medication Nurse to ask about the Penicillin and before she could even answer me he started having trouble and they pushed the code button." Nancy looked up to Mark with pain in her eyes. She cared so much for this man and his son. She felt responsible for all of this and the guilt was eating at her.  
  
Mark looked at her puzzled. "I don't understand why his chart wasn't flagged. He has always been allergic to Penicillin. As many times as he has been in here everyone should know that by now."  
  
"I know. Annie caught it with out even looking at his allergy record. It's like common knowledge around here. It was flagged yesterday. And he has been getting Claforan 1 gm. every since he was admitted. I don't understand what happened to his chart. It's as if it was reworked. I'm just so sorry. I should have made sure it was taken care of. It's my responsibility as head floor nurse." Nancy was angry with herself and it was apparent in her tone of voice.  
  
Jesse stepped in at this time. "You couldn't do anything about it at that moment because you had to respond to Mrs. Crouch's code. The note should have been enough. What I want to know is how his record got so messed up and who is responsible?" Frustrated by the whole thing Jesse turned and walked to the nurse's desk. He intended to find out what had happened to Steve's chart.  
  
Mark returned to the ICU to sit with Steve. Lots of questions were running through his mind as he watched his son closely for any complications that might come up. Who had reworked Steve's chart and why? He couldn't think of anyone at the hospital who would hold any malice against his son.  
  
Was it possible that someone wanted his son dead? Of course it was highly possible. Over the years Steve had successfully closed many cases causing just as many people to go to prison. It wasn't the first time the cop had been on the wrong end of a grudge fest.  
  
Having nothing better to do but sit and watch his son sleep Mark had lots of time to think. And think he did. How many times had he been involved with cases and helped to solve a crime not able to resist getting involved in spite of Steve's protests. He himself had been the cause for many of those people to be imprisoned leaving his son open for threats as the arresting officer.  
  
It was something he would have to deal with later, however, for now all he wanted was for Steve to wake up. 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6  
  
About five hours later Mark was awakened by a sound coming from Steve's bed. He quickly moved over to his son's side and placed his hand over the warm hand that lay so still. He watched with anticipation as Steve tried to open his eyes. The effort was a struggle and for a minute it seemed that he might give up.  
  
Mark leaned over the bed and whispered a word of encouragement in his son's ear. "Come on, Son. Open your eyes for me. Please, Steve, try and open them. That's it. Open your eyes."  
  
Steve fought to do as he was told, but it was proving to be a battle. After some serious work on his part he was able to pry them open enough to find another pair of blue eyes just like his smiling down on him. He seemed rather confused about where he was. There was something in his throat and it was making it hard to swallow. He reached up to remove what ever was causing him so much discomfort only to be stopped by a gentle restraining hand from his father.  
  
"Leave that alone for now. I'll have it taken out in a few minutes. You need to relax and take it easy. You're in the ICU. Do you remember what happened to you?"  
  
Steve tried to comprehend what his father had just told him. He was confused because the last thing he remembered was Mrs. Grant settling him down for a nap. He barely moved his head in response but it was enough for Mark to understand that Steve was unaware that he had gone into anaphylactic shock.  
  
Patting his son on the shoulder he said. "It's nothing for you to worry about now. Just relax and get some rest. I'll get a nurse and we'll remove that tube in a minute."  
  
After Mark was sure that Steve could breath on his own he had a nurse assist him in removing his son from the ventilator. Steve gagged and then started coughing as soon as the tube was free. Mark soothed him and rubbed his back as he rode out the spasm.  
  
Once Steve had been settled he tried to ask his father what had happened to land him in the ICU.  
  
Thanks to coughing and then breathing hard his ribs began to protest once again making it impossible to put two words together much less a whole sentence. His throat was sore and his mouth was dry. All of this combined made any communication with his father at the moment too much for his sore tired body to tolerate.  
  
Mark could see his son struggling and knew that he had questions and pretty much could guess each and every one. Armed with ice chips and a spoon he began first by trying to ease some of the discomfort by spooning in tiny bits of ice to ease the dryness in his son's mouth. Once Steve had managed to swallow several mouthfuls he once again tried to speak. Mark was ready and before his son could even begin to sort in his mind what he wanted to ask, began to explain this latest crisis that had intruded on his recovery.  
  
"You were given the wrong medication. Somehow you were given a dose of Penicillin. You then went into anaphylactic shock. We had to intubate you and push an amp of Epinephrine into your IV to counteract it. You gave me quite a scare." Mark smiled down at his son who was already slipping back to sleep.  
  
This time it was a natural sleep. Mark couldn't help but give a sigh of relief. He made arrangements to have his son sent back to his room and nurse. Once he was sure that Steve was settled and Mrs. Grant had everything under control Mark decided to find out what had happened to Steve's records. When he got to the nurses station he found Jesse standing there looking at several slips of paper and notes from a chart. Mark could tell by the frown on his young friend's face that he was not a happy camper.  
  
"What's up, Jesse? You look like something's bothering you." Mark asked.  
  
"Look at the carbons of these request forms. Someone ordered the Penicillin for Steve. But I don't know who. The initials on the slip are M.E. Then instead of the medicine being checked against the MAR or the chart, it was just placed in the drawer, but worse than that, when it was administered it wasn't checked to see if it was the right dose or anything. They just picked up a vial and drew the medication and inserted it into the piggyback. I'm at a loss as to what is going on here. But I plan to find out."  
  
"What if it wasn't a mistake? What if it was a deliberate attempt on Steve's life?" Mark looked at Jesse to see what his reaction would be.  
  
"You mean someone purposely tried to kill Steve by switching the antibiotics? That's kind of far out there. First, they would have to now that he was highly allergic to the antibiotic. Second, they would have to be able to blend in here with out anyone getting suspicious. Thirdly, they would have to make sure that they had access to the medication cart. That's kept locked up and the only key is in the hands of the medication nurse. It is possible but think about how elaborate a scheme it is." Jesse seemed thoughtful as he pondered on what he had just said.  
  
"I know but if someone wanted him dead bad enough they could pull it off. What better way to cover it up than as a tragic mistake made by the hospital? I seem to recall not to long ago someone nearly killing him right here under our noses by giving him Warfarin. I think I'll have Cheryl check into this from the outside. I plan to do a little checking here inside the hospital myself." Reaching for the phone Mark dialed the number to the precinct and asked to speak to Detective Banks.  
  
After ten minutes of talking and explaining his concerns to Cheryl, Mark walked back down the hall towards his son's room. He was still concerned that this could be a serious mistake made by the hospital staff. He planned to do a little checking himself because no matter who was responsible he couldn't afford to let this type of mistake happen again, to anyone, but least of all his son.  
  
When Mark walked back into his son's room he found him sleeping with Mrs. Grant hovering around him as if by, staying close, she could ward off any harm that might be lurking close to him. He also noticed that she was preparing a bath for him. Smiling to himself, Mark could already hear the battle waging in his head between patient and nurse. He had to give his son credit for one thing he was persistent in his efforts to stave off the equally persistent nurse and the very efficient manner in which she took care of her patient.  
  
"How's he doing?" Mark walked up to his son's bed and placed a hand on his cheek needing to feel the comfort of the contact. He was grateful for the warmth of his son's skin.  
  
Mark realized that this whole incident had shaken him more than he cared to admit. He had always thought his son was safe while convalescing in the hospital. Now that idea had been shattered by this latest crisis.  
  
Mrs. Grant watched Mark as he stood and looked down on his son with concern and love. She knew that this had affected him more than he was admitting to anyone. She could see the lines of worry, although somewhat faded, still on his face. "He seems to be resting fine. I thought maybe when he woke up I would help him with a bath and settle him in for a light supper. I hope he has an appetite. When he doesn't I tend to worry."  
  
"I'll stay with him for now. Why don't you go on home? I'm sure by tomorrow he's going to be back to normal and you are going to need all the rest you can get if you plan to stay ahead of him." Mark winked at the nurse as she began to gather her things to leave.  
  
"You're right, but don't let Steve know that. He thinks that I am invincible. If he ever finds out that I have to take special vitamins to just keep up with him then I will loose my edge. He'll be wrapping me around his little finger like he does Maggie. Can't have that now can we?" She smiled at Mark and as she made her way to the door she called over her shoulder. "Make sure he gets a bath. I'll know if he talks you out of it. So you better not let him get by without one." She then walked out the door.  
  
Mark smiled down on his son and pulled up the blanket tucking it around his shoulders. As he sat down he decided to relax letting himself drift off into a peaceful sleep.  
  
He was startled awake by the sound of rattling cutlery. He looked up and Amanda was helping his son tuck a napkin under his chin. Steve was grateful for her assistance since he was still tired from his earlier ordeal and his ribs and side were still giving him subtle reminders that he needed to be careful about how he moved around. She lifted off the covers from the dishes and began to help with his meal. As Steve picked up the fork he noticed Mark had awakened from his nap.  
  
"I thought you were going to sleep there all night Dad." Steve smiled at his father.  
  
"Well would that have been so bad?" Mark stood and walked up to the bed and peered at the unappetizing looking food on his son's plate.  
  
"It would if I was planning on going back to sleep." Commented Steve between mouthfuls of the white glob that Mark hadn't quite recognized yet.  
  
"What do you mean if you were planning on getting back to sleep? What is that you're eating with such relish?" Mark could never understand how Steve could enjoy the food from the hospital cafeteria.  
  
"You tell me. It was yours and Jesse's idea to put me on a bland diet. When are you going to let me have something worth chewing and swallowing?" Steve reached for the glass of juice in order to wash down the mouthful of what ever the mystery meat was that had him chewing a little longer than was normal.  
  
"How does your stomach feel when you eat? Any nausea?" Mark gazed at his son for any sign of discomfort while he consumed his supper.  
  
"No not any more. I really am getting tired of mush and dry toast. I use to like jello until I had to eat it six times a day. I'm missing the good stuff. I know I smelled meatloaf a moment ago when the food cart passed by the door."  
  
Mark chuckled at his son as he watched him attack another piece of what might be chicken. "I'll see about getting you a little more than bland tomorrow. But, if you feel any discomfort at all you need to let us know. You took quite a beating to your stomach and believe me it will protest if you try to eat something too spicy. It's irritated and the food won't settle well if it hasn't had a chance to heal."  
  
"By the way, you were snoring like a buzz saw over there. You had the windows rattling at one point. I think you need to sleep in a real bed tonight. I'm fine." Steve looked at his father and the two exchanged the unspoken acknowledgment of love and devotion that they had for one another.  
  
"I have you know that I don't snore. Your mother never complained anyway."  
  
"Mom thought you were perfect. She loved you so much it made her deaf." Steve gave his dad a mischievous grin.  
  
"Your mom was a strong woman. She had to be to put up with you and me. Carol never gave her any worries, but boy you kept her on her toes. She could never go to sleep until she knew you were at home and safe in bed." Mark had a far away look in his eyes as he remembered his beautiful wife.  
  
"I didn't know that. She never sat up and waited on me. I was always grateful for that. A lot of my friends complained about their mothers' sitting up and then giving them the third degree about their date or what they did. Mom never pried. I guess she figured if it was important enough I would share it with her." Steve smiled to himself as he pictured his Mom working in her flower garden or cooking in the kitchen.  
  
"That's because she didn't want you to know. She would slip out of bed after you were sleeping and make her way to your bedroom and check on you, did the same with Carol. Your mom could never sleep until she was sure that you were ok."  
  
"You mean she came into the room after we had gone to bed? Why?" Steve looked surprised.  
  
"She just had to touch you I guess to be sure that you were ok. I followed her one night to see what she was up to. She just walked up to your bed and gently placed her hand on your cheek. She let it rest there for a second or two and then she reached over and kissed you. She then turned and walked out. She didn't know that I had followed her and she ran into me just outside your door. I scared her so bad that she squealed. We were afraid that you would wake up but you never moved. She waited until we got back into our room and boy did she let me have it. She told me I had better not ever scare her again like that. I didn't mean to. It was just an accident.  
  
"Anyway, after that I never followed her again. I would just ask her if you or Carol were ok. She would lie down and I could see her smiling in the dark and she would just say 'Everything is perfect.' Then she would go to sleep and never stir again the rest of the night." There was a little sadness as Mark relayed this to his son. Both of them sat quietly for a minute and reflected on how rich their lives were today because of the wonderful woman who had been a wife and mother to them.  
  
Amanda had been standing by listening to her two friends discuss this precious one with such love and devotion. She realized that it was time that she went and told her own mother how much she loved and appreciated her and the thoughtful things she always seemed to do for her family.  
  
She kissed Steve and Mark goodbye and made them both promise to get some rest. Especially Mark. Mark stood with his fingers crossed behind his back as he assured Amanda and his son that he would go home and get a good night's sleep.  
  
Mark knew, however, that he had no intentions of leaving his son alone in the hospital until either Jesse or himself had been able to get to the bottom of the negligence that nearly cost Steve his life. By camping out in his office it would be possible to keep an eye on the care that his son received. His suspicions over the discrepancy lay with the night shift and Mark wanted to observe the nurses to see if it was possible to discover who had totally reworked Steve's chart to fit the pharmacy slips instead of questioning the suspected mistake. If it had been deliberate maybe who ever had carried it out would come back to try again.  
  
But first he had to attend to the battle of the bath since he knew that Mrs. Grant would blame him if his son went more than twenty-four hours with out soap and water being introduced into his routine.  
  
"Steve, I hate to bring this up now, but Mrs. Grant had prepared everything for you to take a bath before she left and was pretty insistent that you take it. She's going to have my head since I promised her that I would see to it that you got one." Mark could see a look of frustration coming all over Steve's face so he decided to try another tactic. "Well at least it's me here to assist you and not her. You could be a little grateful for that."  
  
"Thank goodness for small favors. I swear I have never seen anyone who was so obsessed about being squeaky clean. Mom wasn't that bad and you know how she was." Steve started getting ready for the task so that he could get it out of the way. There was a ball game on that evening and he didn't want to miss it.  
  
After Mark helped his son bathe and change into a clean hospital gown he excused himself with the story that he wanted to get something to eat before the kitchen closed. Instead of making his way down to the cafeteria though Mark headed for the pharmacy to see if he could shed any light on why the medication slips had been so fouled up. 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7  
  
For the next thirty minutes Mark checked all the pharmacy slips from the second floor trying to see if he could find the one for the Penicillin that had been sent up for Steve. When he finally found it he was puzzled by what he saw. Steve's name was on the slip and the room number did say 214 but the request was definitely for the antibiotic that nearly killed his son. What Mark couldn't figure out was how someone could have made such a mistake.  
  
Mark sat and stared at the slip for several minutes when suddenly an idea came to him. He pulled up the pharmacy slips for the third floor and searched for room 314. It all started to make sense to him now. In room 314 was a patient named Steve M. Kellie who was on Penicillin. The next question was who had managed to get the two patients so completely mixed up? And why had the chart been changed instead of the discrepancy in the order being investigated. These were questions that Mark intended to find the answers to as soon as he could explore it further.  
  
Mark headed back up to his son's room and sat with him for the remainder of the baseball game. The two men argued with each other over who was the better ball player, thoroughly enjoying each other's company and the game. By the time the last inning was over Steve had become rather quiet and Mark noticed that he was having trouble keeping his eyes open.  
  
"I think it's time someone went to sleep. You've had a pretty rough day." Mark reached for the controls and lowered the head of his son's bed and started settling him in for the night.  
  
Steve started to protest that he wasn't sleepy at all but a large head splitting yawn got in the way, which caused him to wince a little in pain. Mark smiled down as he watched Steve drift off. He sat for about an hour just watching and making sure that his son was resting peacefully with out any side effects from the close call earlier.  
  
Once he was sure that Steve would not wake up, Mark made his way to the nurses' desk and sat down reading a patient's records so that he didn't look as if he was observing the activities and actions of the staff.  
  
Everything seemed to be going along routinely when suddenly he heard one of the nurses swear under her breath. He looked up and watched over his glasses as she threw the file down that she was looking at. Turning to one of the other nurses, the agitated woman started to complain about the inefficiency of the hospital.  
  
Mark chose to sit quietly and just observe the nurse's actions for a while and see if she could shed any light on what might have happened to his son's chart. Sure enough she began complaining about the fact that she had just corrected the perscription the night before and now someone had come along and messed it up again.  
  
Mark continued to watch as the nurse pulled out the medication sheet and a new request form. Not once did she bother to look at the chart as she filled in the new forms. She continued to grumbled about having to correct things again and how much time she was wasting by having to alter the same information night after night.  
  
When she finished filling out the slip for the medication Mark walked up to her and very politely asked to see the paper before she sent it to the pharmacy. The nurse was a little startled by the request but reluctantly handed the form over to Mark. Sure enough the form said room 214 and the order was for Penicillin.  
  
"Excuse me. What floor were you working before you started on this floor?" Mark asked the nurse.  
  
"I worked third floor for two weeks. Before that I was assigned to pediatrics for a month. I've been all over this hospital in the last three months." She answered.  
  
"How long have you been on this floor?" Mark asked  
  
"I don't know. Maybe two or three days I guess. Why?" The nurse was clearly starting to get agitated.  
  
"I see. When was the last time you had any time off?" Mark gave the nurse a look of real concern.  
  
With tired eyes she looked up at the kindly faced doctor and said. "I really don't remember. I'm just a temp. When they need someone to fill in they call me. I've been working steady for several weeks now. I've been called everyday for over a month. I really am trying to keep up and not let my work get sloppy."  
  
Mark looked at her with sympathy. She was so tired that she was nearly in tears. Because she was so tired, she was endangering her health and in the process of trying to keep up with the grueling pace she had endangered her patients as well.  
  
"What agency do you work for?" Mark wanted to know.  
  
"Jiffy Nurse. Listen please I can't afford to loose my employment. I really am trying to do a good job. If you tell them I was slacking off they won't call me anymore." She pleaded with Mark.  
  
"I want you to look at this form and tell me what you wrote for the room number." Mark handed her the slip and watched as she read the number out loud.  
  
"Room 214. I don't understand." She looked at Mark confused and shrugged her shoulders.  
  
"What is the patient's name?" Mark asked her.  
  
"Steve M. Kellie." She once again looked at Mark confused by his question.  
  
"Are you sure?" Mark once again handed the paper to her.  
  
She stood and looked at the slip and then at Mark for a minute clearly confused by his question. She glanced down at the slip again and then suddenly she realized her mistake.  
  
"Oh no. What have I done?" By now she was in tears and looking very pale.  
  
Mark was suddenly very concerned that she was about to pass out on the spot so he guided her over to a chair settling her into it and drawing up another one so that he could sit facing her.  
  
"Yesterday my son received a dose of penicillin. He is highly allergic to this antibiotic. He went into anaphylactic shock and nearly died. We discovered that the medication ordered the night before was penicillin. Not once did anyone check the medication against the chart or the MAR. It was stashed into the drawer and left. Then when it was time for his next dose to be given the medication nurse failed to check the vial against the MAR to see if it was the correct antibiotic. As a result I nearly lost my son to errors and incompetence. When you looked at his chart didn't you notice that it was flagged?" Mark felt sorry for the nurse but what had happened was inexcusable and must be dealt with appropriately.  
  
Mark knew if this mistake had happened to any other patient the family would surely be talking to their lawyers about a lawsuit and they would have been justified.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Doctor Sloan. I don't know how I could have made such a terrible error. I've never made this kind of mistake before." By this time the nurse was crying.  
  
Mark felt she wasn't entirely to blame. "I want you to go on and get some sleep. I'm afraid that there will be a review of this but now I know what happened. I plan to write up a report to explain some of what I discovered during my inquiries. But for now you need to go home. I can't allow you to work the remainder of your shift under these circumstances. I don't think you would have made this mistake if you had been allowed to take some time off and get a chance to rest.  
  
The woman offered her apologies again and went to collect her things. Mark watched her go and made his mind up that he would have a talk with the Director of Nurses and find out why a temp had been allowed to work for over a month or better with out taking any time off for rest. After making sure that the other staff on duty would be able to cover the remainder of the shift without the extra help he went back to check on Steve.  
  
He watched his son as he slept thinking about the many times he had stood in that very spot thankful that once again Steve had been spared to see another day. Mark also knew that he would more than likely stand there again. It wasn't easy to see his child hurt or sick but he accepted the fact that it was all part of being a cop.  
  
Without even thinking about it, Mark moved over to the chair and settled himself in for what was left of the night. He couldn't and wouldn't leave his son alone this soon after the close call from the day before. 


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8  
  
Steve woke up in a grumpy mood the next morning. He was feeling better and was chomping at the bit to get back home but didn't know if he dare to approach his dad or Jesse with his request, fearing a lecture on the reason he had landed in the hospital to begin with.  
  
Mrs. Grant was fussing over him making him feel smothered and helpless. She started reproaching him about his breakfast the minute it arrived and he had turned his nose up at it. It wasn't that he didn't like the oatmeal it just wasn't what he was hungry for. He wanted a stack of pancakes dripping with syrup and butter with a side of bacon. He wanted a cup of coffee and a tall glass of orange juice. Instead he was staring at a carton of milk and a banana to go with the toast and oatmeal.  
  
After being threatened for the fourth time about eating his breakfast Steve finally had taken all he could and began throwing a fit about the meal and the fact that he was stuck in the hospital when he was perfectly capable of looking after himself. Mrs. Grant was stern and unmovable about what she felt her patient needed.  
  
"Are you through now? I hope you feel better. Sit up and eat your oatmeal or I will feed it to you myself!" With that she handed Steve his spoon and glared at him daring him to disobey.  
  
Grudgingly, Steve took the spoon from her and began to pick at the warm cereal taking tiny bites and mumbling under his breath.  
  
While he suffered through the bland tasteless food he noticed her packing up some of his things. She began to fold his robe and stack up his magazines carefully placing them into the carry all that his dad had brought some of his belongings up to the hospital in.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"I'm getting your things packed to go. We're going home this morning and I want to be ready when you're dismissed. We still have to get you changed into clean clothes for the trip. Now finish up your oatmeal." Mrs. Grant continued her fluttering around as she continued to pack up Steve's belongings.  
  
Steve started to eat with a little more enthusiasm now that he knew he was going to get to go home. As he took another bite it dawned on him what he had heard her tell him. "Did you say 'we' are going home? As in me and you 'we'?"  
  
"Yes, Steven, as in me and you 'we'. Now finish up so we can get you ready." She continued to gather up little things and put them in the bag.  
  
Steve no longer had the appetite to finish up his breakfast. The joy of going home had just plunged to absolute dread. At least at the hospital he had a call button if he felt he needed to be protected from her constant attention, and bossy methods of dealing with his needs. At home he knew that he would be left alone with her and the thought of the last time she stayed with him was still very fresh in his mind.  
  
Mrs. Grant turned to see her patient once again picking at his oatmeal and decided that it just wasn't worth the fight that it would cause to make him eat the now cold lumpy cereal. Picking up the remainder of the, barely touched mess, she admonished him. "I don't want to hear a word come from your mouth about how hungry you are later. Can you at least drink the rest of the milk?"  
  
Steve picked up the luke warm milk and managed to swallow it down with out uttering a single word. It wasn't an easy feat but he even managed to smile at his warden in hopes of appeasing her and avoiding any more unpleasant altercations. Not being fooled one bit by his sudden change in attitude she approached him cautiously.  
  
"Why don't you to lay back and relax. It's bound to be another hour or so before Dr. Travis or your dad can get up here and check you out and be sure that everything is ok for you to be discharged. I'll get your clothes ready and as soon as they give us the go ahead we'll get you dressed and head home. Now won't that be fine?" She smiled down on her patient and pulled the covers up around him hoping he would take a nap so that she wouldn't have to listen to his complaining about every little thing.  
  
Steve did lay back and he didn't complain but he didn't intend to go to sleep either. He just lay there thinking about everything that had happened to him in the last few days. If he hadn't stopped for that donut and coffee he might not be laying here right now. But deep down he knew that he would more than likely have done something that would have landed him in the hospital before it was over. He was wishing there were some way he could go home with out his private drill sergeant in tow.  
  
The next thing Steve knew his father was shaking him. "Wake up, Steve, we need to get you in your clothes and go home." With cobwebs still in his head he obediently accepted the help offered to get him ready to leave. Once he had been deposited into the wheel chair the little party headed for the elevator. As soon as they were inside his dad started a small lecture of do's and don'ts that Steve only half listened to. He didn't feel the need to pay to close attention since he knew that Nurse "Granit" was going to be there and make sure he followed all the rules to the letter.  
  
On the way home Steve sat in the back seat quietly listening to the conversation between his dad and his nurse. He realized that he should be grateful that he was alive to even go home, but somehow he wasn't feeling quite that generous. He knew that the next couple of weeks were going to be hard. All he could think to do was to try and cooperate as best he could in hopes that his dad would not see any need to keep the older nurse on for more than a couple of days.  
  
Once he had been settled into the guest room Steve fell asleep exhausted from the trip home. Mark made Mrs. Grant promise to call if she had any problems or if anything came up. After reassuring the doctor that Steve was going to be fine and she was well capable of handling him she ushered Mark out the door and went about setting everything up for his bath and a light lunch. Steve slept for the next hour waking up to the smell of something good. He carefully got to his feet and, after steadying himself, he gingerly made his way to the kitchen.  
  
When Mrs. Grant saw Steve she quickly directed him to one of the stools at the island and placed a bowl of hot vegetable soup in front of him with homemade slices of bread lightly toasted on the side. Steve's mouth watered at the sight of the food. Since he had barely touched his breakfast he had become very hungry and the smell of the soup was almost more than he could stand. He quickly took a careful sip and immediately realized he had just stepped into heaven. It was the best thing that had passed his lips in the last several days.  
  
"You make this from scratch?" Steve knew nothing this good could have come from a can or a mix.  
  
"I sure did and the bread too. So eat up, kiddo. You could use a little nourishment right now. I wasn't very happy about you leaving your breakfast practically untouched this morning." She didn't have to tell Steve twice as he drained his bowl and asked for more.  
  
"I thought I had to be on a bland diet for a couple of days?" Steve said as he started on his second bowl.  
  
"You do. But it doesn't have to taste bland. Besides your father has decided that as long as you don't judge the next chilli contest that roll's through town you can ease back into normal eating. Now don't eat that too fast or you'll make yourself sick. When you get through we'll get you bathed and into some nice clean clothes.  
  
Steve sighed as he ate the last of the bread next to his soup. "Isn't there some other form of torture you can inflict on me besides always giving me a bath?" Steve complained.  
  
"Well there is but this is more fun. Now stop talking and eat up." She grinned to herself as she continued to clean up the mess in the kitchen.  
  
Once the battle of the bath had been waged and Steve had finally admitted defeat, the two adversaries sat down for a rest. Steve was still fuming over the whole bath thing when suddenly he heard his father at the front door.  
  
"Hi, everyone. How's it going?" The smile that Mark had come in the door with soon turned to a concerned frown.  
  
"What's the matter?" Mark suddenly had a fear that his son was being overly obnoxious and difficult. The looks that came over both Mrs. Grant and Steve's faces told the story.  
  
"Let me guess. She wanted you to do something, you didn't want to, she won, and now you're pouting. Is that about right?" Mark wasn't smiling except in his eyes.  
  
"I think I'll go take a nap now if you don't mind. I'm feeling very tired all of a sudden." Steve rose stiffly and made his way to the guest room leaving Mark alone to discuss his son with the very unmoving Mrs. Grant.  
  
"I apologize if he's being difficult. He really does like you. I know he doesn't show it but he really does." Mark smiled at the older nurse as she grinned back at him.  
  
"Oh, I think that is up for debate but it doesn't matter. He ate a good lunch for me and he just volunteered to take a nap on his own. It seems to me that so far things are working out pretty good. I am curious to why you are home early though. I didn't expect you for another two or three hours."  
  
" I just came from the review board about the Penicillin mistake. It seems that the temp nurse was the one who made the error. She is so over worked that she just got confused about what floor she was on.  
  
Unfortunately my son was the one who suffered for it." Mark sighed looking down the hall towards the room where Steve now lay napping.  
  
"What did they decide to do about it?" Mrs. Grant asked.  
  
"Well I spoke up on her behalf. I think that part of the blame should rest on the hospital's shoulders and the nursing agency that she works for. There needs to be some way that we can keep up with how many days these nurses are working and regulate how many hours they can work in a week. It's just too dangerous to them and the patients if they don't get the proper amount of time off. Anyway they aren't going to take away her license at my request. But I did ask that they put her on medical leave for a few weeks so that she can get some rest and get over being exhausted." Mark looked rather serious as he thought about the near fatal mistake and what it would have cost him.  
  
"Do you think that they will keep a better eye on the staff they use from nursing agencies for now on?" Mrs. Grant cocked an eyebrow at Mark knowing how things tended to get forgotten once the storm blows away.  
  
"I think so. I did suggest that we set up some kind of system where we can keep a much closer eye on the actions of the agencies and of the nurses we use from them. I think that there will be a new job opening up. I'm sure that someone will be hired for the sole purpose of keeping up with who is used and how often. Anyway it's a start." Mark got up and headed for his bedroom.  
  
"I'm going to change and go for a quick jog down the beach and when I get back I'll help you with the next big project you have planned for my son." Mark smiled and disappeared.  
  
Later that evening Steve, Mark, and Mrs. Grant all sat on the deck enjoying the cool evening air. Suddenly someone screamed out and Steve was on his feet in a flash. As he raced down the steps of the deck Mark yelled. "Steven Michael don't you dare."  
  
Steve raced down the beach to where a young mother was struggling to catch a small child while holding on to a baby at the same time. The little boy was running for the ocean unaware that the strength of the surf would surely sweep him away. Steve managed to grab the youngster just at the water's edge before the surf rolled in soaking his pants up to his knees. He turned around and headed back towards the frantic mother who had one arm outstretched anxious to hold her child close and safe.  
  
Mark and Mrs. Grant raced after Steve both very angry. "I'm going to kill that boy myself when I get my hands on him." Mark sputtered.  
  
"You better get there before me, Doctor, because if I get there first he's all mine."  
  
As they approached the object of their frustration, they both started in on Steve at the same time. Startled by the outburst of both father and nurse, Steve looked up to see them both rapidly bearing down on him with obvious anger all over their faces. At this point it didn't matter as he was in quite a bit of pain from the unexpected exercise.  
  
"What were you thinking?" Mark asked with frustration.  
  
"You could have gotten hurt."  
  
"What are we going to do with you?" The nurse angrily asked the poor out numbered Lieutenant.  
  
"I can't believe this. You just got home today."  
  
"No wonder you never get a promotion. You probably don't listen to them any better than you listen to us." Again Mark aimed his frustration at his son.  
  
"Did you not just say you would try to follow directions and do as you're told?"  
  
"I should have known we couldn't trust you."  
  
"You are going straight to bed as soon as we get you back to the house young man." Mrs. Grant informed her patient.  
  
On and on the two scolded as they drug Steve back to the house one on either side. All Steve could think was 'Here we go again.'  
  
The End. 


End file.
